


Hide & Seek

by maiadiggory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Beauxbatons, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Diagon Alley, Dumbledore's Army, F/M, France (Country), Friends to Lovers, George Weasley - Freeform, Indie Music, Magic, Meant To Be, Minor Original Character(s), Music, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Original Character(s), POV Original Female Character, Paradox, Rock Band, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Slow Romance, Soulmates, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Time Travel, Time Turner (Harry Potter), Wands, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, hermione granger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiadiggory/pseuds/maiadiggory
Summary: "Are you asking me to play a giant game of hide and seek with you ?""Well if I was would you accept ?""Do I have much of a choice?""Turn around ... Count to ten ... And find out"We're conditioned to believe in the possibility of right person wrong time but in reality, the right people are timeless ... as long as you have a time-turner on hand.Jules Beaumont is tired of her life, tired of being controlled by her overbearing Mother but when she meets shop owner George Weasley she believes her luck might be changing. That is if she wasn't moving away the next morning in an attempt to escape the brewing troubles in the Wizarding World ...
Relationships: George Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Intro

Hiya, I'm so excited to be sharing this story with you all !! 

  
Again you can imagine whoever you like as Jules but I picture her looking like any of these three girls, I just couldn't pick :

Again this is only how I see them, you can picture her in whatever way you think fits best as the only key thing is her hair :))

George at the start is ofc how he is in Half-Blood Prince but as it continues he looks more like goblet of fire/long hair George even though it's set during Order of the Phoenix sort of time so like this :

I'm not creating a strict playlist for Hide and Seek but there will be one I'll link here soon...

  
I am also making a Pinterest board for the books aesthetic which I'll also add soon .....

Also one last thing, I spent ages researching how time turners work within the Wizarding World and it's just so complex it would be too hard to make the story work so I'm sort of applying my own logic to story so sorry it's not entirely realistic but I just had such a great idea I needed it to work !!

I hope you enjoy -M :))


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed utterly ridiculous really, coming all this way to say goodbye to a bunch of brick walls. To most people they held no significance whatsoever other than new itchy school jumpers that they'd "grow into eventually" and the weight of their stack of that year's textbooks. None of which I ever got to experience. The bricks walls, these cobblestones, this street has a whole different meaning for someone like me : someone foreign and an outsider to their traditions. I wasn't completely separate from them mind, sure I never got the pleasure of finding my wand at Ollivanders but my experience at Cosme Acajor never seemed to differ that much from the tales of Ollivanders bestowed onto me by Hermione over the years. She had Diagon Alley, I had Place Cachée and yet it was never in Griffon Buveur that I'd go out of my way to dive into for a butterbeer or K. Rammelle's Enchantée where I'd fill my bag to brim with sweet treats I could savour for my time away at school. 

It was here - Diagon Alley- where I felt the most at home.

It wasn't just that my house was an easy ten minute walk away that gave this cosy street it's homely sense. After all, apart from Hermione, I was all alone here in theory. I'd wander this alley alone for hours every holiday I was back at home, almost spending more time leaning against the wall of the Ice Cream Parlour gradually making my way through all their flavours than catching up with my parents back at the house. Occasionally I'd be joined by my Mother who was desperate to hear every detail about my past term at Beauxbatons, always using it as a way to reminisce on how joyess her years there were as Head Girl. Sometimes late at night when I can't sleep I consider whether I was only sent here just so she had an excuse to bring this school every time we spoke. So it's no wonder really why I kept those trips to a minimum and why instead I'd use my free time to do nothing more than people watching, coming up with witty back stories for every interesting character that would walk by while I was doing school reading sat in the outside seating area of Rosa Lee Teabag or sat on the bench near my favourite second hand bookshop tucked away in one of the corners of the alley. As I did this I placed myself in their stories, deciding if they'd be long term family friends we'd meet at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch on Saturday's or maybe (if they happened to look around my age) they were that student in the year above that you'd rather spend a night alone in the Shrieking Shack than expose to even your closest of friends that you had a crush on them. Regardless of who they were I always had a place in their lives which is the main reason why I never truly felt isolated here - it didn't matter to me that my relationship with everyone was but a fabrication of my own mind. 

It was real to me. Well not as in I'd walk up them and act like I knew them as if I was some deranged Azkaban convict but in the sense that it was comforting to know that in another life (where my Mother wasn't trying to relive her youth through her daughter) this could've been real, if only I'd been given the chance ...

For years I tried pleading with my Mother to let me relocate and she'd hit me with the same rehearsed response every time "Stick at it for another year and if you're still unhappy then I'll consider it". The same sentence reiterated back to me in the same dull tone every year for seven years in the summer holidays inbetween school, its repetitiveness so prominent that in the last three years I'm able to mouth it, hand actions and sighs included as she shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms in unison. But as this august came to an end, my wishes had been granted: I was moving, just not to Hogwarts and even further away from Diagon Alley than ever before. I'm sure whichever muggle town I was going to have to conceal my identity in would be a lot closer to here than France but it was something about the fact that I'd be so near and yet could never enter through the brick archway I was standing under right now that made the distance seem so much further.

According to my parents, I'm currently frantically packing for the move tomorrow morning behind the locked door of my bedroom, and not standing in the entrance way to Diagon Alley, having found out my old Nimbus 2000 from when I was a far too eager first year and escaped from my second story window only five minutes ago. Normally this setting was so welcoming, especially this time of year when plenty of new witches and wizards would be starting upon their wizarding journeys bringing a buzz that just couldn't be replicated elsewhere. But now, as I step through the archway, I am far from welcomed by the usual hum of the street created by the chaos of wizarding families. 

It's still August and yet even the bright summer sky seems dimmer down here as if it had been bordered up like every other shop for as far as I could see up the alley, only a slight tinge of light shining down. I traced my hand slowly across the plank of wood nailed to the door of the Ice Cream Parlour as I began to walk down the alley, letting out a slight gasp under my breath everytime my eyes land on another usually bright shop plastered with Ministry posters and warnings. My hand crumples away from the borders to cover my mouth as I catch sight of my favourite bench : coated in tiny pieces of smashed glass from the bookshop window behind it and slashed down the middle, causing it to rip apart and fall to the floor.

I go to walk towards it in an attempt to see if there was any chance it could be resurrected for my usual book reading/people watching session but am halted in the middle of the cobblestone walkway as someone rushes in front of me, bashing into my shoulder as they do but with so little care they don't even turn around to utter a simple sorry. My balance is quickly lost as I'm spun around to face the direction of their dashing, stumbling as I go to clutch onto my tote bag that had fallen from its position on my shoulder. Taking a moment to regain my sense of self I bend down to pick up my bag, packed with books I'd carefully selected to read on the bench on this last trip but also ones that I wanted to gift to Hermione as I'd always felt guilty about her refusal to accept birthday or Christmas presents from me over the years. Among all the books was only one other item : a simple permanent marker. Where I would use it I wasn't quite sure yet but I was determined to leave a piece of me here because I certainly will never forget this place, I just want to make sure this place will never forget me ...

Resuming my bag to its previous place on my shoulder, I stand up straight and look ahead hoping to discover what on earth could be so enticing it warranted pushing strangers out of the way. Half of me was thinking it would be Voldemort himself standing at the end of the Alley bit then again people would probably run away from that rather than straight towards him.

So no, I wasn't surprised that I didn't see the dark lord himself sipping tea outside the Tea Room but I was surprised to see something I had never seen down here before - a completely new building.

It had been so long since I was last here, having been banned all summer due to my Mother being consumed by her anxieties over the dark uprising. Funny to think that at the start of the holidays I thought that would be my only sacrifice but then came the Owl restrictions (which meant I was no longer allowed to send my weekly letters to Hermione just in case we had become important enough to be infiltrated). After that was her insisting all curtains must remain closed at all times and then there was no changes for a couple of weeks - complete radio silence- until she revealed her final plan. We were going on a long "holiday" to use her own wording which was shortly followed by "indefinitely" - two words that just didn't seem to fit together. 

None of that seemed to matter though as my eyes gaped up at this new beacon of light before me that was so prominent compared to the newfound dullness of the Alley. As I began to move closer more and more details of the building became clear : the bright orange windows that through I could make out the silhouettes of countless people, the front door that was wide open allowing a slight smoky yet sweet scent to waft down the alley and (as I walk right up to its entrance) the noise which was almost deafening in contrast to the overwhelming silence of before with a new woosh, crash or bang seeming to echoe right through me with every heartbeat. 

This is the Diagon Alley I want to remember when I leave not the abandoned carcass I'd just walked through. I didn't care whether Hermione was in here (though I can't see why anyone wouldn't be drawn to this place like a moth to a light) - this was where I would spend my last hours. 

The store (which I had now realised was called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a name I recognised from Hermione's letters, thanks to the scrawny first year I asked upon entering) was absolute chaos. Not a blank piece of wall was left empty, every crevice was stocked with shelves presenting just about every joke toy, sweet or prank you could possibly ever imagine. It was everything the Alley should be this time of year - total mayhem and yet had the ability to put you at ease upon entering.

There was no point in even bothering trying to find Hermione among the crowds, just standing on my tiptoes and sticking my head out would risk being knocked out by what appeared to be a flying hag on a unicycle constantly yelling out "I must have order!" which everyone else seemed to find incredibly amusing but left me feeling like I was missing out on the best wizarding joke of all time. I couldn't let it deflate me for long though so I persisted through the shop, making my way to the second floor where a bright array of Pygmy Puffs caught my eye.

I traced my hands across their cages as I walked past what felt like a Pygmy for every colour of the rainbow and watched as they bounced around excited just by the presence of a new visitor. I stopped by a bright red one that almost perfectly matched my own hair colour which somehow managed to mimic what I imagine a giant fluffy cherry would look like. I bent down to it's level, hoping to get a better look at my Pygmy twin - I'd always wanted a pet but my sister was always allergic to whatever fluffy creature we presented her with. 

"Got your eye on something?" A voice to my left calls, immediately making me jump up almost knocking my new friend as I do so I clutch onto it's cage as I stand back up again, heart thumping furiously as I dart my eyes to the left. 

I recognised his face from a poster downstairs straight away...

Great start Jules, the owner of the shop has just witnessed you not just falling over but taking his entire Pygmy Puff supply down with you! Oh and he's cute too. No not just "cute" he's incredibly handsome and you've gone and fucked it already.

"Sorry I thought it was gonna fall ... they're just so small and cute!" I apologised, aiming to make this as simple a conversation as possible so I could be on my way and eventually find Hermione.

"Well that's probably a good job - they don't seem to actually do a lot apart from sit there looking all cute but somehow also managing to stare into your soul with their incredibly large and adorable eyes".

I gulp, taken aback by the quietness of his voice compared to the telling off I was expecting. He chuckles as he speaks, drawing my attention to his soft eyes as the crease from laughter and then his smile that is constant as he talks as if nothing could possibly sadden him and every word he spoke was full of joy. It was one of those annoyingly infectious smiles that you couldn't help but smirk back in response at the very least but in a way that never felt forced.

"Doesn't sound like a bad life to me, I know I'd trade what I've got going on right now for that any day" I joke back, concealing the hint of gravity in my response.

"Well in my professional Pygmy Puff Connoisseur opinion, we don't quite sell polyjuice potions strong enough to make the change however I do believe you've already got the looking cute part down."

"Thank you" I beam, unsure how to properly take what I thought was a compliment. Obviously me and that Pygmy had more in common than just hair colour.

"Any time..." He winks before taking a rather long pause "I hope you don't mind me asking but it's just I can pretty much tell you who everyone in this shop is except from you so in the least weird way possible : who _are_ you?"

"Well most people call me Weasley's Wizard Wheezes mystery girl" I tease "But my friends call me Jules."

"Last name?"

"Beaumont"

"Any middle names?"

"Are you a Ministry interrogator or something? Am I about to be arrested? " I scoff, totally amazed that anyone could take such an interest in me.

"No just absolutely intrigued... so I take it no middle names?"

" Nope just Jules Beaumont"

"So what am I ? Am I most people or am I one of the lucky friends" 

"If I'm being honest the friends is singular, I only really have one friend"I bite my lower lip, hoping I wasn't beginning to overshare too much "You might know her actually, Hermione Granger?"

"Of course I know her, she's round my house that bloody much to spend time with my brother !" He exclaims as if I'd be mental to think otherwise. I guess he did say he could name everyone in this shop.

"I knew it! I knew I recognised the name Weasley from somewhere, you must be one of the brothers then ... hmm but which one?"

"Take a wild guess - you've got a 1/5 chance"

"I'm not too good at remembering all your names so I'm gonna have to guess from the stories she's told me over the years"

"Sounds good to me plus I get to hear what Granger's been saying about me now"

"Are you the one who ... got possessed by a diary?"

"Eh eh, incorrect ! First of all that's my younger sister Ginny so you're starting quite far off"

"Merde! I mean ... shit!"I exclaim "I'm going to rule out the one that works for the ministry unless this is all some elaborate cover up for your desk job so I'm going to with ... the one who drove the flying car (that I've always wanted to see by the way) all the way to Surrey?"

"Ooo so close, there's two brothers that did that. So there's Fred , my brother , my twin to be more specific, and me - George- the objectively better twin that you've been blessed with the presence of"

"Oh come on, you gotta give me that, that was like four years ago I was only 13!"

"Sorry as the Pygmy Puff Connoisseur I also hold the position of Brother Guessing Adjudicator but, I've got more questions about you now"

"Fire away"

"So you're friends with Granger, right?" 

I nod. 

"But I've never seen you before or heard of you so where have you come from ? " 

"Just down the road really, if you back through the Leaky Cauldron then turn right and-" I laugh while turning to point the way as if I'm some savvy navigator.

"No I mean ... you obviously don't go to Hogwarts? Or do you I've just been totally oblivious to one of the most interesting girls I've ever met? But your accent is throwing me off, you sound like you're from round here then you start swearing in French !" He waffles as if I'm one of Sherlocks great mysteries he wants to solve for himself and he won't stop talking until he does.

"Do you want me to tell you or do you just want me to listen to all your theories ?" I took his silence as an indicator it was the first one "I have a french Mother so she sent me to Beauxbatons like she did but I try to spend as much time back home as possible."

"Beauxbatons of course. Wait so why didn't I see you at the Triwizard tournament ?"

Great here it comes, time for the dead sister story I have to tell everyone that will end any conversation in an instant and make things permanently awkward. 

"My sister died" I finally blurt out, feeling a wave of total embarrassment as soon as I do - who on earth says it like that, you sound like such a psycho. "So I took a year out, it was really hard on the family especially my Mother so I just couldn't go and leave her" 

I immediately look down knowing all I'll get back is that same look everyone has been giving me for the past two years and the overused "I'm sorry for your loss" like that ever makes anyone feel any better.

Instead, I feel a warmth hover over my hand, forcing me to look up now directly into his eyes but I am not met with the expected pitiful response as he closes the space between our hands. He's moved so close to me now I can see his eyes fully and how they aren't the originally brown I thought they were but instead have flecks of green running that at some points could even pass for gold. My eyes move slightly down to his cheeks : speckled with soft freckles, the type you want to run your finger over to admire their intricacy like a beautiful dot to dot. 

"I don't need to hear anymore, that's all I need to know" he smiles softly, without a sorry in sight just genuine, unrehearsed sympathy. 

"Thank you" I whisper, too choked by my tears beginning to fill to raise my voice any louder but reluctantly moving my hand from underneath his to brush the area under my eyes, hoping to disguise whatever emotions were starting to seep out from there.

"Jules!" An instantly recognisable voice calls from behind us, jolting us both away from our current conversation as we turn to face in the direction of it.

"Hermione! I tried to look for you but it was such chaos down there I gave up" I call over to a seemingly busy Hermione who appears to be browsing a brightly lit up section of pink fountains.

"Don't worry about it! I've got to find the boys still, meet me downstairs in two minutes?" She calls back, sure I was glad to finally see her but most of me was gutted I couldn't spend more time up here.

"Sure thing see you then" I shout as she makes her way back downstairs and after a pause I turn back to face George, knowing I should get the goodbye over with "Looks like I'm off then..."

"By the looks of things Granger can't wait to be out of here" he laughs softly "But uhm one more question, potentially my most important one yet, will I see you in here again ?"

"I hope so" I smile as I picture coming back here on my next school break, hopefully with the Alley looking less abandoned but this store still the exact same - absolute carnage downstairs but if you can make it to the second floor it's quiet enough to have more conversations like this. "Bye George, see next time I guess"

"See you next time Jules!" he repeats back to me as I back away and turn towards the stairs.

As I take my first step down, suddenly it all comes flooding back to me - almost knocking me back- as I remember why I'm here today. I whip around, hoping he hadn't gone too far as this store was far too complicated to navigate as a first timer but there he was , still playing with the Pygmy Puffs. 

Surely Hermione won't mind if I'm a little late, right?

I decide not so I march back up the stairs and round the corner to our previous spot.

"Actually... you won't" I start.

"O-oh" George quavered, total loss of understanding evident on his face.

"It's nothing personal I swear, far from it" I rush in, anxious of not just the time but more importantly of not offending him "I'm moving away for a little while .... That's a lie it could be a long while .... or just a while. Basically I have no idea when or if I'll ever be back."

"Can I ask why, so when I tell the story of the mystery girl to my brother it won't sound like I made the whole thing up" he eventually responds clearly overwhelmed by all the information I was pelting at him.

"To be honest I don't completely know why, its my Mother she's scared of literally everything like seriously I'm surprised she's lasted so long as a witch. But she just doesn't feel safe here anymore with all this uhh ... Voldemort shit so we're relocating I guess"

"But where are you going, I'd love to come visit you in that flying car of mine you wanna see so bad"

"I don't know that either, me knowing risks our safety but I'm pretty sure it's somewhere I'll be completely regular and boring and not at all absolutely intriguing "

"Jules" he pauses to reach for my hand once again, bringing a familiar warmth " you will _**always**_ be absolutely intriguing so wherever you end up you'll stick out like a sore thumb and I'll be able to find you as long as you don't go changing that amazing hair of yours"

"I like the sound of your theory and just so you know I wouldn't dare change it, I might lose the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes mystery girl look " I laugh but deep down I know it would be far more complicated than that as I tuck a few strands of my bright red hair behind my ears.

"Lets try it out!" George bursts out as if he'd been bottling it up for ages or maybe just as if he's just as eager for this not to end as I am.

"Okay sure let's do it, I'll walk out of here right now - no more goodbyes- and you try and find me" 

This would sound utterly ridiculous to anyone else and give the impression I felt like leading some poor boy I just met on. But the truth was even though I'd only known George for fifteen minutes, I just knew that leaving now without a definite goodbye in hopes of seeing him even only once more would be so much easier than forcing a definite ending.

"Are you asking me to play a giant game of hide and seek with you Jules?"

"Well if I was would you accept?"

"Do I have much of a choice?"

"Turn around

.... 

Count to ten

...

and find out"


	3. Chapter 3

The previously calming chaos of the lower floor now only increased in its torment as I walked further down the stairs, the hum of the crowds growing louder and louder the more steps I walked down. It was as if they were yelling at me, torturing me with the fact that they were simply having fun - having a normal day. They weren't counting down their last hours in this magical world because for them it was guaranteed to still be here for them tomorrow or the day after that or any day they wished for that matter. For one moment, a singular seemingly inconsequential moment, I had a glimpse of that carefree life of my own choosing. But why did it have to be him to do that? Why not Hermione who I've known now for seven years and is easily the most intelligent person I've ever met? He's just a stranger, a once in a lifetime interaction, a fleeting moment of hope.

He was so delicate though, gentle in every way and yet somehow now it feels like I've suffered the blast of a thousand Stupefy stuns to the chest, forcing me to clutch hold of it as I begin to make my way through the crowd as I tear away from the stairs.

"At least you made it down more than two steps this time" I mutter to myself in-between shaking breaths, my eyes stinging slightly from oncoming tears beginning to form. I dart my eyes about the crowd hoping to blink away the trickles of single tears before they become uncontrollable but also I no longer wanted to look at the faces in the crowd.

"You're so delusional Jules. You actually thought this was a good idea?!" I screamed to myself in my mind "You never should have come here. Not today ! Not before ! Never. You liked him as well didn't you, of course, you did. Well look what's happened now".

I was laughable really. Firstly to think coming here ever for all these years would do me any good at all but secondly that George would think about me for even a second after our conversation (which he probably saw as dragging and was glad that Hermione showed up to whisk me away).

He's just a stranger so why is he having this effect on me? Maybe I'm just overly emotional today, just looking for a reason not to be utterly disappointed with my life and the way it's turning out. Because the truth is, this is happening no matter who I meet today. No matter who I talk to. No matter if I've truly connected with someone for the first time. What happens to me today is irrelevant – I'm irrelevant. This was nothing more than a game of pretend where I could write myself into a life far more interesting than my own. He was just another stranger I watched and invented a life with. Sure, for those fifteen amazing minutes it didn't feel like a fictitious story I had concocted just to escape my own. But it was though – it had to be. Right?

Nudging the last few eager shoppers out of my way, I reach the door that not that long ago I had walked through full of the same shared excitement of the crowd I wormed my way out of. And it did last mind, it did. Until I reached those steps. I could have left it there. Fuck that I should have left it there. I should have left and never glanced back at him and I certainly shouldn't have hesitated, not even for a single heartbeat. Instead, I let the hesitation linger, I held my breath for one second too long and now I can't bear to stay in here any longer.

I was crying. Seriously full-blown tears streaming down my face as I sunk to slump on the concrete steps against the wall, all because of what? A stranger who I will never see again.

No. Why do I keep on calling him that? A stranger doesn't hold your hand, igniting your nerves all down your arm like an intense electric shock. You don't lock eyes with a stranger and instantly every area of tension in your body just melt away. Down this alley, I've accidentally brushed hands with strangers numerous times in crowded shops but never have I thought about it longer than the awkward "sorry" that follows. Or if I were to make eye contact while I was sitting on the bench in my spot people watching, I would shoot them away almost instantaneously so why with George did I rest my eyes on his as if it was the most natural place to look?

I crumple even further, covering my face in my hands as I continue to sob into them. Why is my life like this? Is the universe taunting me with the feeling of happiness? Saying oh look here's your dream life, do you want it? Oh, you do sorry not today nor tomorrow nor any day. You don't deserve that.

"All I want is one chance" I whisper to myself, attempting to console myself as I wipe my face of the tears.

Unexpectedly, I felt a presence looming behind me and immediately I freeze, arms dropping to the side, allowing the harsh wind pervading the alley to whip around me. I don't dare turn around and let anyone see me like this, not even Hermione – not right now. Instead, I go to stand up and saunter away from this place without hesitating to contemplate a return.

"Jules?" the voice was eerily familiar and yet sounded as if I hadn't heard it for a lifetime. Slowly I creak my eyes, then my head in turn, around to gaze firstly at their feet and work my way up to piece together who this was.

At first, I'm successful with the shoes: fancy brogues the type Dads whip out only for fancy parties or meetings at work. However, as my gaze rises to their legs and the stark brown and nude pinstripe suit seems to stare right back at me so I jump right up from my spot sat down to meet with his own eyes.

"George?" I stammer, unsure whether to be pleased or totally lost.

It was exactly like him the same suit, the same air of cheekiness about him but he held himself different than before. Apart from the moments his hands were touching mine, George's arms were permanently crossed in front of him like there was some deep secret hiding on his suit vest no one was allowed to see, but now his hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets, his body completely opened.

This wasn't George. This was Fred but how on earth did he know my name.

"N-no ... I-" he paused, taking the time to look around us before speaking again "I'm gonna go..." he slowly uttered "I'll get Hermione" he finished rather hurriedly as he spun around and left me again, leaving me no chance to apologise for misidentifying him.

However, he was true to his word, within two minutes Hermione was swinging the store door open before grabbing a hold of my hands to stand me up again.

"Sorry" she apologises, genuinely "I got caught up with ... the boys temporarily but let's get out of here this place is a considerably depressing way to end the holidays".

We strolled through the alley for a while, giving me the chance to fully look at the destruction that had taken place here since my last visit almost a year ago. Hermione stopped as we reached the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and turned to face me directly, holding onto my hands as she did.

"Jules" she started

"Y-yes?" I replied uneasy at her seriousness.

"Answer me honestly okay?" I nodded slowly, not totally understanding what I was agreeing to "We have barely spoken in a year thanks to your Mother and the only reason we can see each other briefly now is that I'm so hyper organised and set the date over a year in advance. So how are you, seriously?"

And with that, everything came tumbling down all over again.

Every detail about my conversation with George, the lingering feeling in my hand that was still present now and finally how this is my last day and that if she thought only seeing me once this year was bad just wait for the next few where I will have a completely different identity and be surely living in some remote mountain in Wales.

Somewhere amongst all of that I still find a way to bring up that fact that no one ever cares how I am and even when my sister died it was only to relieve their survivor's guilt and to gawk at me pitifully.

After what felt like a lifetime of rambling I finally look up to meet Hermione's gaze instantly feeling as guilty as my pitiful onlookers for bursting out like that at her but all I am met with is a slightly vacant expression that seemed so foreign on her face.

Allowing my breath to eventually catch up with the rest of my, I still search Hermione's face contemplating how awkward I've made this now if she was only asking for the sake of conversation.

"Oh Jules, I hate this." now she's the one to cry over everything as she leaps forwards, wrapping her hands around my neck in a tight hug "After your sister, after everything you have to put up with all of this as well. I just- ugh, you deserve your chance. I mean you deserved it two years ago when she died so you certainly do now."

"Hey... hey," I say. Delayed I hug her back just as tight, slightly knocked back from her sudden outburst. "It's okay, honestly, there's nothing to cry over. We'll come and meet her again soon, I promise – alright?".

"Yeah ... yeah I'm sure it will" she sniffs, releasing me from the hug but still holding on tight to my hands "I'm so sorry about that Jules, I just- I don't understand what came over me."

"I think it might've been something to do with me telling you I'm moving away indefinitely ?" I laugh, hoping to crack even a slight smile on her face but I was unsuccessful.

"I'll just really miss you, Jules, I can't really explain it but I "

She's cut off by the sound of a door along the alley slamming shut, making us both flinch. I look back at her but she's unusually far too focussed on the doorway still.

"Hermione?" She snaps back to face me, letting go of my one hand but holding the other much tighter. "Hermione what are you doing?"

And suddenly I'm being dragged, why I'm not quite sure but Hermione was a far faster runner than I ever would have expected, whipping us around corners of the alley before letting me go as we crash into a small side street.

"Are you going to tell me what that was for?" I demand, breathlessly "I appreciate I'll be missed but kidnapping seems a bit extreme"

"Sorry, just can't let anyone see..." she ....., peeking around the corner to check we were alone.

"What do you mean, see what?" I question, raising my voice slightly out of nerves.

"Quiet!" she mutters, putting me in my place before softening her expression to continue "Can't let anyone see your going away present, of course"

"But I only just told you that I-"

I silence myself as I watch Hermione carefully reaching into her pocket, moving so slowly you'd expect her to produce a precious diamond from in there. As she finally pulls her hand out all I can make out is a tiny fleck of pink tissue paper before she snaps her fingers closely around it and reaching over to deposit in my own hand.

She doesn't divulge any more so I take the chance to open up the hand and peak at the gift but she immediately forces my hand closed over it, not allowing me to see any more of the contents other than the paper.

"You just can't let anyone see it okay?" She snaps her head to look around as if the rest of her words were being forced out of her "Be sure to give it a good few ... turns and make the most of it too, don't waste it-"

"have you bought me drugs?" I laugh in disbelief but seeing no alternative, still hoping that she would reveal what it truly was and laugh with me.

"Don't waste it because-" she continues, seeming to ignore my drugs comment "because well if you do waste it, we might end up in a spot of trouble later on"

"Still sounds like you've bought me a load of drugs 'Mione but either way thank you. When I see you next I'll make sure to let you know how well I didn't 'waste it" I chuckle but this time it is returned as she finally smiles back at me.

"I can't wait to hear all about it ... someday" he comes forwards again, embracing me in one last tight squeeze "Remember, a good few turns don't hold back ... give yourself the chance " she reminds me before hurrying away to leave me in the side street still clutching onto the tiny parcel.

When I can no longer hear her scuttling away across the cobblestones, I finally unclamp my hands from around the mysterious package. Cautiously, I unwrap the tissue paper surrounding it- still utterly convinced for the most part that some powder was about to come spilling out. At first, I assume it is just a necklace as I brush my fingers along the delicate gold chain but, as I pick it out of my hand letting the chain unwind, I realise my mistake as the pendant it's attached to is revealed.

This wasn't **_just_** a necklace.

This was a Time-Turner.

My first instinct is to clamp my hands back over it, suddenly far too aware of my surroundings and who might be watching. I stuff it into my own pocket as I glance around the corner to check I wouldn't bump into anyone – even a stranger- but thanks to the apocalyptic look of the alley I was in the clear.

Unsure of where to go next, I begin to dash down the alley, far too focussed on holding onto the new contents of my pocket than my own movements.

"Why on earth would Hermione think this is a good idea?" I wonder as I trace my fingers around the circular outline of the Time-Turner "Is it a good idea? Well, it must be, she always knows best and surely she'd never do anything like this so sudden?"

I seemed to have endless amounts of questions but the most prominent and far more important one was: Merlin's Beard, how the fuck do you use this thing?

A good few turns that's what she said right? How much is a "good few" – one, five, twenty? How was I meant to know?

"Fuck where even am I?" I suddenly exclaim, not knowing how long I'd been rushing around for.

I finally remove my gaze from the floor and look up and let out a slight smirk: I was at the bench, my bench.

Slumping next to the broken bench, I take out my parcel from my pocket one more time, placing just the tissue paperback. Delicately, I put my head through the chain, allowing the pendant to rest on my chest as I let out a deep sigh.

"Give yourself the chance "I whisper Hermione's parting words back to myself "Maybe if I go back a few hours, give this place the goodbye it deserves" I continue as I drag one hand along an unbroken leg of the bench which I don't pay much attention to until my fingertips make out what felt like an engraving in the wood.

And there it was, in stark black ink: JB GW.

They were just four letters yet they seemed to awaken something within me as I whip my bag from off my back and reach in to feel for the black permanent marker I had packed. It was still there and so was the inscription; it wasn't just a figment of my overly emotional imagination.

I dart my eyes back to my chest and before I know it, I'm spinning the pendant of the necklace - at first just once then two more then another and one more just for good measure. After that, I lose track of the number of endless spins I seem to be causing and just watch in awe as the miniature glass hourglass turns and warps around in the circular disc. I'm so in awe, in fact, that I don't recognise that my surroundings start to fade away leaving just a mist of life around me. I certainly don't recognise when the mist fades along with the inscription.

In fact, I don't recognise much for a while until I sense a presence right in front of me. Snatching my head up and stuffing the necklace under my jumper, I know who it is instantly.

"Mrs Ainsworth! What are you doing here?" I ask, wondering whether he'd come to clear the shop of all the books before even more destruction occurs here.

"Come to open the shop, of course, love, why are you sat on the floor?" she laughs which would normally be so comforting but now just fills me with uneasiness.

Brushing myself off, I come to stand up to his level. "Just having a bit of a sit down that's all"

"Was the bench not adequate enough for you?"

"The bench?" I spurt out, dread filling me up as I turn to look in the place of the broken bench.

And there it was alright.

But it wasn't broken, not even a wooden plank missing.

However, what was missing was those four inky letters.

"Are you alright Jules? What seems to be the matter"

"Nothing Mr Ainsworth... everything's completely fine"

Everything was certainly not completely fine.

"Just wondering though, as it seems to have slipped my mind, what is the date today?"

"Why it's the nineteenth of August my dear, our busiest day of the year for schoolbooks of course," she says, proudly – this bookshop was always his pride and joy regardless of what the staff at Flourish and Blotts always thought.

"Right..." I start.

Perhaps I'd only gone back a couple of weeks, nothing too major I'm sure I could find somewhere to stay. Maybe the leaky cauldron could have me for a while or I could find Hermione as there was always the possibility that I could somehow convince her I'm not insane when I explain how I'm here right now.

I say my goodbyes to Mrs Ainsworth quickly, saving myself from even further embarrassment, and stand on the corner of the side street taking the familiar beauty that surrounded me.

The destruction here mustn't have been that long ago as the ice cream parlour was in full force (the tables outside packed with visitors all eating tubs of different bright colours), Flourish and Blotts had queues that appeared to wrap around the whole alley and the sweet shop was bustling with excitable children all helping themselves to various sweet treats behind their parents' backs.

I take my first step into the crowd before immediately turning myself back around to ask one more question.

"Mrs Ainsley!" I call out, hoping she wasn't too engrossed in her books.

"I'm here" she replies, peeking her head around the door

"You're going to think I'm ridiculous for saying this but it is 1996 right?" I say.

"Did you hit your head down there Jules?" No, but I sure do feel like it "I mean you're not far off but we've still got a few months to go till then"

"What do you mean by that"

"Why it's 1995 you're a year late my dear"


	4. Chapter 4

1995.

Not 1996, nor 1997.

Not even 1994.

It was 1995.

I was in 1995.

This wouldn’t be an abnormal statement to make if it was indeed 1995 but how could it be when just ten minutes ago I was sat wallowing at how dismal my life had become … IN NINETEEN NINETY-SIX!!

It all made so much more sense now: the suddenly fixed bench, the previously bordered up shops bursting with shoppers – everything had an answer.

Except for one thing.

What the fuck was I supposed to do in 1995?

It’s not like I could just sit outside Mrs Ainsworth’s shop for a year. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind some extra company but twelve months might be pushing it even with her.

I couldn’t even go to my house – well not unless I wanted to disrupt the process of time even further and go and hang out with my year younger self.

I was still firmly placed on the corner of Mrs Ainsworth’s side street, leaning against the edge of the shop wall but taking a moment every five minutes to do a rapid pace past the shop window before resuming my position. As I did this the same questions battled for prominence in my mind :

You shouldn’t of spoke to Mrs Ainsworth, you don’t know how time works what if something horrible happens to her now?

Great, you just made eye contact with that man, someone else knows you’re here now – what if he works for the ministry and by this time tomorrow you’ll be locked away somewhere to be monitored?

What are you going to eat because you certainly don’t have enough money, not even for a small butterbeer at the leaky cauldron all you have is a time-turner that’s just as useless as the permanent marker at the bottom of your bag?

What was I even doing at this point in time? Certainly nothing as … interesting as this(for lack of an appropriate way to describe accidentally travelling a year into the past with no idea how you got here nor what the consequences of this will be – interesting seems to be my only option other than ‘total insanity’). As this question popped into my mind during my final pace almost immediately after another popped up with it: What was Hermione doing at this point in time?

Abruptly, I halt my pacing midway back to my spot as I finally found a way out of my self-interrogation loop. Hermione was just about the only person who I had a shot at explaining this all to without that ministry lockup threat looming in my mind again.

“I have no idea where she got this thing,” I think as I snatch the time-turner from around my neck, stuffing it far from view in my pocket less delicately than before, way too paranoid by the sheer amount of eyes that could be watching me “All I know is she’s the only person who knows how to use that thing … but she’s also my only friend”

And I could really do with one of those right now…

The alley was usually so welcoming and homely to me, even when it was completely obliterated back in 1996 but now it felt far from it. I never felt like an outcast here but now I felt targeted and vulnerable as if every person here could be a potential threat to my life rather than an old-time family friend or an acquaintance from school like before.

Once again I found myself pushing my way through a crowd, desperate to find someone that wasn’t just a friend in my imagination but all I found was empty faces of people I no longer recognised nor wanted to. I didn’t want to be wrapped up in their lives anymore not even in my head.

As I burst through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron only to collapse onto the nearest seat, that one question still riddled my mind, having barely given myself any time to produce an answer: Where was Hermione this time last year ?. However, as soon as I’d allowed my breath to return to its usual rate, an answer came to me almost instantly. I guess I should be thankful really Hermione was my only friend as it’s because of this that it is far easier to remember the goings-on in her life. Especially, the goings-on she writes in her letters to me weekly (sometimes more) so straight away I recalled her writing to me about staying with her friend ‘Ronald’ (as she called him which always seemed so formal to me) all summer with his family in London. I couldn’t, however much to my annoyance, come up with the address where this Ronald lived.

I knew what I had to do.

I didn’t like it not one bit but it had to be done.

Looks like I did need to disrupt the process of time even further if I wanted a way out of here

***

70% was about how confident I was in the moments I scaled my drainpipe that I wasn’t about to tumble through my window and onto myself but after a day like today that extra 30% of doubt was a risk I was far more than willing to take.

I realise far too soon that perhaps I should have been slightly more aware of that 30% as I throw myself onto my bedroom floor with a thud, awakening movement downstairs as I hear the rush of footsteps up the stairs. Diving into my wardrobe, I collapse behind the rack of coats after placing an old textbook on the floor to distract whoever was home. I try to map out the movement of feet as they enter my room circle around it but aren’t smart enough to search my hiding spot in the wardrobe before picking the book back up and placing it on my bookcase and leaving again. Only when I’m sure whoever it was (whether it was my Mother or Father I couldn’t tell – the pure sound of my heart thumping away was far too loud to hear much else) was back safely downstairs, I crept out from my hiding place, at last, holding the box I kept of Hermione’s old letters from the bottom of my wardrobe.

I rummaged around the box, flicking through four years’ worth of letters, some near the front were still in their newly opened condition while those closer to the back had begun to age slightly from being stuffed away collecting dust for so long. At last, I find the one I’m searching for:

6th August 1995

Dear Jules,

Sorry, it’s been so long since my last letter, my summer plans changed quite suddenly after the end of the school year. As you know I was back home for a few days when we met up at Diagon Alley but I was mainly there just to complete summer homework and pack my bag because as of last week Dumbledore has sent me to stay with Ronald, his family and a few others at the house in the address at the bottom of this letter. However, where we are staying is currently under the Fidelius charm so if you do send a response so this is the best I can do as I cannot reveal the exact address. My apologies again for changing our meet-up date so suddenly to the start of last week but it was great to see you again and tick off five more ice cream flavours from your ice cream bucket list!

After everything that happened with Harry with the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the return of you-know-who, things have started to change around here quite a bit but Harry’s come to join us today so hopefully, I’ll be able to meet with you again towards the end of the summer! I hear Flourish and Blotts might be having a sale at the end of August on some of those books we were looking at so maybe we could share a few and swap at our meetups.

Don’t give up with you Mother, Jules, I have faith that one day she’ll see the world the way you do again.

See you soon,

Hermione x

Grimmauld Place

Islington, London

I never saw Hermione again after that, not until today or well today for me, a year in the future still for her. I managed to send her one last letter via a school owned owl once I returned to Beauxbatons that September but all I was able to say was a vague description of my Mother’s sudden banning of all use of owls within the family. Hermione being Hermione she sent one straight back, with a pre-organised date for us to meet up the next summer, allowing me to comply to my Mother’s rules of no more letters – 19th of August 1996. The day I had just lived and then un-lived all at once.

But that didn’t matter now.

This letter was only dated 13 days ago so if Hermione actually did stay in London the whole summer she was still there right now, and better than that she was only a short walk away from my house. Sure, I had no exact house number but it was better than nothing.

After placing the rest of the letters in their box back in the wardrobe, I unzipped my backpack to shove the letter and the now slightly tangled time-turner which made me shudder every time my hands brushed against my jean pocket. As I go to slip back down the pipe it suddenly occurs to me that if I am to stay with Hermione I have no belongings on me whatsoever apart from a time-turner I can’t tell her about just yet and a permanent marker that was even more useless. Nipping back into my room, I cautiously open my wardrobe doors once more and search for some clothes I didn’t think year ago me would miss but as I do I land on numerous items I could’ve sworn my Mother threw out while I was away at school. I decided to stuff them (a few chunky Grandad knit jumpers and cardigans, two more pairs of jeans and a couple of casual t-shirts and finally the boring bits of underwear and pyjamas) also into my bag, perfectly covering my secret.

The darkening sky was the ideal setting for my getaway as I landed once more at the bottom of the drainpipe at the side of my house, allowing me to slip away with the remaining sunshine as it set over London. Once I was far enough away from my road so as not to be caught by any neighbours who might recognise me, I attempted only my fifth apparition since my seventeenth birthday last December – it would’ve been more if my Mother hadn’t locked me down in my own home for the last few months. I had my license but I couldn’t help still feel slightly in danger every time I travelled like this but I just couldn’t risk being seen by anyone, even strangers, tonight. The sense of all of my extremities being pulled apart from one another was getting less and less every time I travelled this way but due to my prolonged break I couldn’t help but throw up into the road as soon as I’d arrived, my eyeballs still tingling slightly as I did.

I had never been to exactly Gimmauld Place nor had I ever heard of it before Hermione sent that letter so the closest I could get was a small park I remembered visiting with my Grandma as a child. When my limbs finally felt like they were in working order again though I realised I had no idea where to even begin to search for this street – my only option was to ask around, much to my reluctance.

It wasn’t long before I finally passed a woman, coming out of a local corner shop so I seized the opportunity, making the interaction as short as possible as I did.

For the first time today and a long time actually, I was in luck: Grimmauld place was only a few streets away from here. “It’s hard to miss, it’s got those big townhouses you know the sort, surrounding a sort of park”. Hastily, I said my thanks are briskly walked away following her directions, strictly keeping to the shadows of the streets not illuminated by the streetlights as I still didn’t want to risk being seen by anyone at all.

Eventually, I made it to Grimmauld Place and for some reason, I was still surprised when the woman’s words came true and the black townhouses of the square towered over me and the small communal garden at its centre. I counted along all the houses, attempting to look into their downstairs window as I did, hoping that I’d strike lucky once more and catch sight of Hermione through one of them.

But I didn’t seem to strike anything at all. Not until I stood in-between house number 11 and 13 expecting to survey front of the house in-between only to find absolutely nothing. Not even an alleyway to their gardens, nor a dead-end path – 11 blended seamlessly into 13.

I was tempted to carry on my search and just count it as some muggle mistake but instinct planted my feet firmly on the pavement in front of the two houses. I had no idea what I was waiting for, but something inside me just wouldn’t allow me to move until something -anything- happened. Unless her friend’s secret house was submerged under the small pond in the garden behind me, this was single hope for finding Hermione…

**_George’s POV:_ **

“Was anyone expecting a girl with red hair?” Ron panted, obviously having run the very long distance of one flight of stairs down into the living room.

“Red hair?” Fred repeats, looking up from his book on the opposite side of the room.

“Ron, do you mean our sister? You know Ginny we’ve had her for like fourteen years now” I chuckle, taking great pleasure in taking the piss out of my brothers in every opportunity given to me.

“No, funnily enough, I recognise my sister thanks, George, this one's got like … bright red hair not like ours” Ron bites back, obviously feeling rather feisty today.

“Hold on Ron, did you say bright red?” Hermione cuts in sadly giving me no chance to continue my torment as she slams her own book down now.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I just said a girl with bright red hair that’s not our sister, everyone on the same page now?”

“Not in the slightest, why do you ask if we know her?” I tease while also being slightly intrigued as to who this mystery girl was that had caught my brothers attention so much.

“She’s sort of lingering outside” he revealed.

“Lingering? You sure she’s not just walking and you do know she can’t see this place right, you’ve got to relax Ron we’re safe here” Fred laughs.

“Piss off I’m being serious she’s right out the front just … sort of stood there”

“Sorry to interrupt but you’re sure she had bright red hair, any other defining features?” Hermione interrupts again, a rather unusual thing for her when not answering questions back in lessons at school.

“Oh I don’t know but yeah the hair was hard to miss”

“I know who it is” Hermione darts a look at all of us now, almost looking guilty as she did.

“What do you mean you know who it is?” Ron exclaims, totally baffled again at her intelligence as he is most days.

“I mean I know exactly who it is Ronald what do you think I mean?”

“Yeah… Ronald keep up honestly, but just out of curiosity who is it, Hermione?” I press for answers even more curious before now that Miss Do No Wrong seems to be falling apart at this girls appearance.

“I need to go speak to Dumbledore” is all she says before disappearing out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen where the others were meeting.

Immediately me, Fred, Ron and Harry who has suddenly joined in on the action dart across the room to peek behind the door in an attempt to hear even a slither of the gossip especially as Dumbledore was getting involved.

He hadn’t been around much the past few weeks actually despite all this being his creation and so this was only his second appearance at the Order.

“Professor I seem to have accidentally invited a friend, she’s here but she can’t see the house obviously and of course I couldn’t reveal the exact location but somehow she’s here” Hermione rambles, as she does every time something goes wrong Ron whispers to tell us all, producing a smirk across my face as he does – once again Ron and Hermione were acting like an old married couple.

“Would this happen to be your Beauxbatons friend, Juliette was it?”

None of us had ever heard of a Juliette before, only Ron who commented that he’d watched Hermione write letters to a French friend sometimes but other than that he had no clue who she was.

“Yes sir but she prefers Jules, I’m so sorry I don’t know why she showed up I only sent her a letter I-“ Hermione begins to stammer, whoever this Juliette or Jules was she was causing quite a stir already.

“Instinct works in curious ways, Miss Granger, let Jules in it would be my pleasure to make her acquaintance”

Let her in? We never ‘let anyone in’? The only person we ‘let in’ was Harry fucking Potter so the standards are pretty high for getting ‘let in’ to this place.

“But Professor, I don’t think I quite understand, no one is allowed to know” Hermione shares my confusion as she responds to Dumbledore and as I look to Ron his eyebrows are just as furrowed as my own.

“And no one will, the Fidelius charm is more than capable of carrying out its purpose Miss Granger”

We can’t pick up any more sounds coming from either of them other than the slight muffle of footsteps and eventually the rumble of the front of the house as the entrance reveals itself.

I couldn’t help but think she might be in for quite the shock as she watches a house appear from nowhere, I know I was when we first arrived, even more so when mom and dad acted like it was totally normal. I guess that’s what I love about magic, it’s always surprising you even though I’ve experienced it for seventeen years there’s always more to amaze you.

The next thing we hear is the sound of a bag being dropped to the floor followed with high pitched inaudible squeals, silenced by Dumbledore as he says “Miss Beaumont, so glad we could finally meet one another”.

“Jules Beaumont?” whispers Fred, mainly to Ron as he seemed to be the only one that had even the slightest bit of insight.

“I don’t bloody know, if I did I would’ve said wouldn’t I ?”

“Alright calm down, smokes gonna start coming out your ears if you’re not careful”

“Why have you two spiked my food with one of your sweet again because if you have I swear-“

“Woah woah, Ron, relax yeah? We ran out of that kind a few days ago” I cut in, trying to diffuse the tension.

“That kind ?! What other kind have you spiked me with then ?! It better not be those ones that made me shit all night long I –“

At what seemed to be the peak of Ron’s outburst, Hermione finally re-enters the room, letting out a slight cough to alert us as she lurks in the doorway as if guarding a huge secret which she was in a way – this mystery girl had captured the attention of even Harry who had given up brooding on his corner of the sofa to listen in which took a lot more effort than you’d think.

All I could make out from her was the occasional glimpse of bright red poking out from behind Hermione and merlin’s beard was Ron right when he said it was bright – it would certainly bring some colour to this place that’s for sure.

“Everyone…” Hermione starts before shifting slightly out of the way of the doorway “This is my friend, she’s going to be staying here a while”

As soon as she shifts and I can finally put a face to a name, everything in my body seems to come to a sharp halt. The face that I can now put to the name seemed so familiar but in the stranger you see on the street that you swear you recognise but are never able to put a name to. It felt as though I knew her completely already and yet I couldn’t pinpoint a single fact about her. As Ron begins to speak again, I shake off whatever feeling you could possibly call this.

“Hiya I’m Ron” he sticks his hand out for her to shake, not being subtle whatsoever that he thinks this will impress Hermione if he does “Jules is it?”

“Technically it’s Juliette but always thought that would lead to people making awful jokes about me finding my Romeo but my friends call me Jules”

She was clearly incredibly nervous hence the ramble she was spewing, but who can blame her I’d be just as nervous walking into a house that appeared out of nowhere only to be greeted by a bunch of lanky gingers and the chosen one. Her nervousness can’t have been helped by the fact that only Hermione and Harry laughed with her – obviously, it was some muggle reference that I hadn’t payed attention to in Muggle Studies a few years back.

“Last name?” I cut instinctively, without any awareness of what I was saying really just spurting out whatever came to mind first.

"Beaumont" She finally comes to turn to face me smiling brightly at first, which at first I suspect because someone had changed the subject, but as she connects with my eyes her smile falters as she speaks.

"Any middle names?" I continue and as I do her smile resumes, leaving me with that same eerie feeling as when she first walked in.

“Are you a…” she starts, laughing slightly as she does, before going quite as she continues “a Ministry interrogator or something?”

"No, just absolutely intrigued... “ I don’t take my eyes from hers, searching them in hopes I would find the cause of this feeling consuming my mind currently “I mean… because of the effect you seemed to have on poor Ron here when he saw you outside!” I quickly round of my sentence.

“Haha, yeah I’m pretty sure he thought you might be You-Know-Who in disguise” Fred cuts in, taking great pleasure in furthering our teasing of Ron.

“His greatest fear is no longer spiders but girls with red hair apparently” Harry suddenly joins in the conversation “I’m Harry by the way …”

“No offence mate but I don’t think you need much of introduction” I snicker and Harry just rolls his eyes, blanking me as he continues talking.

“Anyway, Jules to what do we owe the pleasure?"

“Oh yes Jules, I forgot to ask earlier I was too surprised by your sudden arrival – what are you actually doing here?”

She takes a long pause this time, darting around the room as if that would give her inspiration for an answer.

“I ran away from home!” she eventually bursts out rather hastily.

“But why has your Mother got that bad you can’t spend the rest of summer there?” Hermione furthers her questioning but all that happens is that her cheeks go a similar colour to her hair as her eyes race around once more, making it feel as though the rest of us were interrupting a personal conversation between her and Hermione.

Her eyes land back on me though and her lips curve upwards slightly once more into a smile as she says :

“I’m coming to Hogwarts this year”


End file.
